


Getting Hitched to a Danger Magnet

by Calacious



Series: Ho oku i [18]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Inspired by Music, M/M, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:11:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4695065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Calacious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not at all how I had this planned out in my head. Danny's the one with the cold feet, Steve's pacing, and Rachel and Kono are the ones talking sense into Danny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by John Legend's, "All of Me," which was suggested by snowbeardolphin. 
> 
> Some of the concepts, and words from the song are embedded in this. 
> 
> This is a work of fiction, and I do not own the characters, nor am I making money through the writing of this. 
> 
> This is imperfect. Please forgive errors, and let me know if you like this.

Love.

A four letter word. Sometimes it's a curse. Danny thinks of Rachel. Remembers Grace. Steve.

The man drives him crazy. So had Rachel. But it's not the same. Their love had been romantic. Passionate. Wild. Short-lived. But he'd never really known how to navigate around her curves and edges. They'd crashed and burned.

What he'd had with Rachel was short of perfection, and Danny knows that what he's got with Steve isn't perfect either.

Far from it.

Steve snores. And he drives like a maniac. Has the coldest feet that Danny's calves have ever felt at two in the morning. But Danny doesn't know what he'd do without any of that anymore. He's lost himself, and found something deeper than love, in Steve.

Steve doesn't do anything halfway, either. He gives Danny his all - the good, the bad, and the ugly - and Danny can't help but respond to that in kind, giving Steve everything he has, and wishing it was more.

Half the time he feels like he's losing his mind. Like maybe he lost it back when he'd first met Steve, weapons drawn on each other, both ready to shoot first and ask questions later. They hadn't, and that had been Danny's downfall. The very moment that love had sucker-punched him in the gut, and laughed in his face, except he hadn't known it at the time, because it had been disguised as anger, and later masked in a grudging, mutual respect that developed into what they have now.

There's no going back.

Not for Danny.

Steve is it for him. His end. His beginning. His everything.

He loves Steve in a way that he could never love Rachel. Knows that Steve loves him, even when the man doesn't say it, because Steve's actions are words.

"Danny?" Kono's voice, her hand on his shoulder, breaks through his reverie, and he smiles up at her, catching her eyes in the mirror.

"You ready?" she asks.

Nodding, Danny takes a deep breath, squeezes Kono's hand. He feels like a little kid learning to ride his bike - all nervous energy and sweaty palms; heart thundering in his chest with anticipation; mouth dry. Fearful that he'll fall and skin his knee. Never get back on the bike, because it'll hurt too much.

Steve's in the other room. Dressed in a black tuxedo, face creased with worry lines as he paces, mentally rehearses - lips moving silently - the words that he's going to say.

Danny can picture it, and he closes his eyes, lets Kono readjust his tie - a Father's Day gift from Grace, it doesn't match his white tuxedo, but she's thrilled and Danny doesn't give a damn about what's proper and isn't. He'd had enough of that with Rachel.

"Breathe, Danny," Kono says, voice a lilting tease as she straightens his tie, smooths down wayward strands of hair that just doesn't want to stay in place.

There's a knock at the door, and Danny wonders if it's time. He's ready, but he's not. Rachel steps into the room, eyes raking over him, and Danny holds his breath. She's beautiful. Poised. And there are tears swimming in her eyes. A stab of nostalgia hits him, and he remembers what they'd had together, back when it had been good, before the snark and the yelling and the nothing ever being good enough had started; they'd been in love. Had fallen out of it.

"He loves you, you know?" Rachel's smile is the most genuine he's seen it in years. Her eyes search his in the bedroom mirror, and she crosses the room to stand behind him, presses a kiss to his cheek, wipes off the lipstick before it can stain.

"I love him, too," Danny says, voice hoarse. It feels like a betrayal.

He'd loved Rachel, once upon a time. It hadn't been enough, and there's a momentary panic as he wonders if his love for Steve will be enough. He'd left the man. Had come back. And they'd fit together like matching pieces of a puzzle, as though they'd never really been apart. He'd lived through the - until death do us part - and, selfish or not, the worst part of it had been not having Steve by his side. Not being by Steve's side.

"I know you do, Danny," Rachel says, squeezing his hand. "I thought I'd be more jealous, or angry, or...something, but...I think he's good for you, and that you're good for him. Don't doubt any of it for a minute, Danny. You're doing the right thing."

Sniffing, Rachel offers him a watery smile. "Grace hasn't stopped talking about this for days. She's so excited about you and Steve finally getting married. Your mother, too. I don't think I've ever heard her so excited about something. Not since we told her we were expecting."

"Ma was just as excited about us," Danny says quickly, meeting his ex-wife's eyes in the mirror, wanting to comfort her, and feeling generous, because there are butterflies in his stomach, and he's about to marry the love of his life, and he doesn't know if he can go through with this, knows he can't _not_ go through with it. He's a mess. Emotions a whirlwind, and his mind a mess of what if's that are threatening to grow out of control.

Rachel laughs, and shakes her head, brushes at Danny's stray hair that just won't stay slicked back. "It's okay, Danny. Your mother tolerated me at best, she dotes on Steve. Grace does too. I'm happy for you. Really, I am."

Swallowing in a vain attempt to tame his wild emotions, Danny closes his eyes.

"You don't think I'm making a mistake?" His words are little more than a whisper.

Steve's supposed to be the one with cold feet, not him. He's been through this before. Knows what to expect, and what not to expect.

"Danny." Rachel's hand is straightening his hair, his tie, the front of his suit, and it's familiar. He captures her hand in his, and opens his eyes, brushes his lips across the back of her hand. Her breath hitches as she pulls her hand away to resume her motherly fussing.

"We were snake oil and holy water. We didn't work," she says, tone sardonic. "You and Steve, well..."

"You're a powder keg and he's the match," Kono supplies quietly. Her arms are crossed over her chest, crumpling the front of her flowery grooms-maid dress. She's sitting on the edge of the dresser, legs crossed. Her smile is mocking, her eyes sparkling with barely contained joy.

Rachel laughs and nods. "Not quite how I'd put it, but, yes. You and Steve, you complete each other. We never had that, Danny. Steve's a good man. He loves you just the way you are, and wouldn't dream of changing you. Me, I wanted some unattainable dream. Don't get me wrong. I loved you. Always will. But I wanted the pretty package without all of the...mess that went along with being a cop's wife," her face screws up as though she's searching for a different word and settles for one that's inadequate. Which is kind of how he'd felt toward the end of their marriage, and if he's honest, in the beginning and middle of it as well.

Danny grimaces at the image, and the undertone of bitterness that's still present between the two of them, in spite of the years that they've been apart, and their agreed upon truce after certain hidden truths had come out. He's dizzy with the swirling emotions that Rachel's and Kono's words bring up, and he wonders if he can really go through all of this a second time. He doesn't want to screw up again. Doesn't want to find himself drowning his sorrows in a case of cheap beer a few short years from now, fingering a ring finger without a ring.

"Danny, you've nothing to worry about," Rachel whispers, lips brushing the outer edge of his ear, hand resting on his shoulder. "Steve isn't me, and the man's crazy about you."

"Yeah, Steve's crazy about you, brah," Kono says, voice playful. She nods in agreement with Rachel, and kicks off the edge of the dresser. She waltzes toward the door, and swirling her dress dramatically, she saunters back until her eyes meet his in the mirror.

"You're crazy about him." She shrugs as though it's obvious. "You're both certifiably crazy in a straight-jacket kind of way for each other; it's not the knee-jerk kind of reaction that's a mix of hormones and adrenaline rush that come from your almost weekly near-death experiences. What you and Steve have, it's real, not the stuff of romance writers." She gets a mischievous gleam in her eyes and her voice lowers a notch as she leans into his space. "Though, maybe some of what you have is the stuff of erotic thri-"

Danny twists around, covering Kono's mouth with his hand before she can finish her thought. She licks the palm of his hand, and he grimaces, pulling it away. He shakes his head, can feel a blush creeping up his neck, but that tightness that's been building up in his chest - the worry that he's going to fuck this up - is knocked loose, and he can breathe again.

"You ready, Danny?" Chin pops his head in the door, scans the room, eyes landing on Danny, lips twisting upward in a smile that almost reaches his eyes.

Danny doesn't take it personally. Knows that the man misses Malia, and suddenly the breathlessness is back as he tries, and fails, to picture life without Steve by his side. The man drives him to distraction, makes him want to strangle him at times, but Danny wouldn't have it any other way.

Unable to speak, Danny nods. He's ready. Mouth dry as the desert, palms sweaty as the jungle, and shakier than a man with palsy, he tries to stand on his own, and is grateful when Kono and Rachel, flanking him, help him to his feet.

"Not a fainting damsel, here." His words are met with tinkling laughter, and Chin's deeper baritone.

"No, you're not, but if you don't get out there soon, I think Steve's going to come in here and drag you out," Chin says. "I think he's worn a path in the living room from all of his pacing. I'm not sure which of you is more nervous about this."

Heart in his throat, Danny nods, and squeezes Kono's and Rachel's hands. His father and mother meet him in the hallway. Rachel and Kono break off, moving toward the front of the living room, where the ceremony's been set up, and Chin slips away.

Danny barely registers his mother's kiss on his cheek, and his father's pat on the back as they lead him down the makeshift aisle. He has tunnel-vision, eyes locking on Steve, who, once he'd spotted Danny, stopped pacing.

There's a peaceful look on Steve's face that Danny's never seen before, and he's smiling in a way that makes his eyes light up. It's overwhelming, and Danny can feel tears welling up in his eyes, can hear his mother sniffling, and knows that, while his father won't outright cry in front of everyone, the man is clearing his throat in an effort to keep his emotions in check.

Danny's blind and deaf to anything and anyone other than Steve, and his heart is singing. An electric current surges through him the second Steve's hand touches his, and everything fades away as a peace he's never experienced before settles over him.

This is it, and Danny doesn't know why he'd had misgivings earlier. He loves Steve. All of him; and the words he's rehearsed fall easily from his lips, though he doesn't even realize that he's saying anything at all. The pounding of his heart and the look in Steve's eyes drown everything out.

He doesn't register what Steve says, either, though he can hear the love in the other man's tone of voice, and if it wasn't for the video from Kamekona, Danny wouldn't know what was said at all. He hadn't stuck to his script, and neither had Steve. They'd spoken from their hearts, and when they watch bits and pieces of the video later, long after everyone's left and the honeymoon's over, they laugh at the sappiness of what it is that they'd said to each other, and share looks that words could never hope to express.

Before long, rings are exchanged, Grace and the son that he had yet to really get to know, beaming up at him and Steve as they hand the rings over. Grace is bouncing, barely resisting the urge to twirl around in her dress, and Danny spares a smile for her, before devoting all of his attention back to Steve.

There's a dopey, drugged-up look on the man's face, and Danny feels the urge to laugh, but sobers up when Steve leans down to complete the ceremony. Danny surges forward, and they kiss. It lasts for what feels like years, the need to breathe superseded by the need to confirm their love for each other, and only ends when Danny starts to remember that he and Steve aren't alone, and he feels two small hands tugging at his suit coat, bringing him back down to earth.

When sound and sight return to Danny, Steve's arm is wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him close to his side, cameras are flashing, and Danny's aware of the small band of witnesses, some dabbing at their eyes with tissues, others smiling, or shouting out catcalls. Though it's a small, intimate ceremony, the applause that erupts when Steve and Danny's marriage is declared official is no less cacophonous.

There's a reception afterwards. The children, watched by Kono and a couple of other ocean-friendly adults, are down at the beach, splashing in the ocean. Steve's lanai is crowded and filled with the gentle murmuring of their guests as laughter and speech is picked up and carried off in the early evening breeze.

The heady scents of charcoal from the grill, and beer, commingle in the air, and the sound of glasses clinking together denies Danny a bite of his burger for the umpteenth time as Steve draws him in for a kiss that somehow, even though it's got to be their hundredth kiss of the day, makes him feel like he's drowning in Steve, and he doesn't want to come up for air.

When the presents have been opened, displayed in their living room on a table draped in a fancy white cloth that Danny's mother had bought for them, and the guests have been sent on their way laden with leftovers, and it's just him and Steve, Danny sinks down onto the couch, arms open wide, beckoning his husband to come sit with him. And that's when it finally hits him that he's hitched, for life, to a danger magnet - the love of his life, and (hopefully)many lifetimes to come.

It's late, and they've got to be on a plane at an absurd hour of the morning to start their two-week long honeymoon - a combined gift from Chin, Kono, Steve's mom, and Danny's parents. Right now, though, all Danny wants to do is lie down on the couch with Steve, and recreate their first time together.

There're candles strewn about the room, though, and the fruity scent of papaya lingers in the air, courtesy of a fruit tray from Kamekona, and there's the muted pop-pop-pop of fireworks going off in Waikiki as Steve joins Danny on the couch. It's nothing, and yet everything, like their first time together, and Danny feels every bit as tense as he did then, because it's their first time as a married couple. It's meant to be special. One partner carrying the other across a threshold of some sort, pulling sheets and blankets off of a bed, undressing each other with eyes and then hands, gaudy lingerie...

Their movements aren't as rushed as they were the first time they did this, back when they were still in denial, and unsure of themselves, and of each other. Danny still owes Kono a big bouquet of flowers for getting them together. He makes a mental note to bring her something back from Greenough, Montana, provided that he and Steve make it outside of their tent, and stop exploring long enough to do some shopping. It's not his ideal choice for honeymoon destinations, but he knows that Steve will love it, and Danny's excited about that, seeing Steve act like a kid in a candy store, because he can bring Danny hiking, and they can make love beneath stars close enough to touch.

There's a definite rhythm and certainty to their movements now, after years of practice, and Danny could do this blindfolded. Still, it feels different, and new, and Danny's giddy with the knowledge that Steve's his. And he's Steve's. They're bound together by vows, rings, and a love that has transcended even death.

He knows Steve's body, what gets the man off, and what will make his lover's - his husband's - breath hitch, and make him squirm and writhe, call out Danny's name, breathless and panting, long before he comes. Before they even touch.

There's no hurry to remove clothing, no frenetic urge to get down and dirty as quickly as possible as they examine each other in the afterglow of their wedding. Instead, there's a shared knowledge, an inner peace, and Danny holds his breath, closes his eyes, and leans into Steve's touch when his husband cups his face with a worn hand, brushes the ridge of Danny's cheek - wiping away a lone tear of happiness - with his thumb.

"For the rest of my life," Steve promises, voice low and filled with awe, repeating words that Danny hadn't heard earlier. The love is understood. Danny doesn't need to hear it, because it's evident in every breath of Steve's that ghosts over his skin, making it tingle.

"For the rest of my life," Danny echoes, linking the fingers of one hand with Steve's, kissing them, and applying his other fingers to Steve's belt, not wanting their first night as a married couple to go to waste, even though neither of them is in any hurry, and they have until o'dark thirty in the morning to grab their packed bags and hitch a ride to the airport with Chin.

"You sure you wanna do this here?" Steve asks, eyes darting toward the stairs, voice husky, eyes half-lidded and smoldering with need.

Danny nods, pulls Steve down on top of him. "Right here, babe. Where it all began."

"Fuck, Danno," Steve hisses when Danny's back arches, and he grips Danny's face in his hands, quiets his thoughts with a kiss that makes Danny's toes curl, and his stomach knot and fill with butterflies gone mad.

Danny's head is spinning, Steve's tongue is making his words slip loose from his brain, and Danny's never been this horny (this in love, in need) before, and he needs, needs, needs what only Steve can give him.

Steve's body is pinning him to the couch cushions, and Danny can feel the knobby hand of one of Grace's barbies poking him in the back, but Steve's hands are working their clothing off, and Danny's are doing their damnedest to help. He's blind, deaf, dumb...on fire.

Danny pushes the minor irritation of the misplaced toy to the back of his mind, loses himself in the act of lovemaking. Sweat-slick skin slip-sliding in the humidity of an August night increases the heat between the two of them as they bump and grind, twist and rock their hips. There's broken breath, sharp aborted cries of pleasure that eventually (much too soon) give way to twin shout-whispers of "Danno!" "Steve!" as they come, together, culminating their first intimate act as a married couple in a mind-blowing orgasm.

"I love you," Danny says, voice thick and slurred, body still locked with Steve's, sweaty limbs entwined. He reaches into the couch cushions beneath him, extricates the lost barbie doll and, with a grimace of disgust, tosses it onto a pile of clothing, sighs in relief and laughs at the look that Steve gives him before he kisses the look away, and Steve shifts his weight just enough so that Danny's breath is his own again.

"Ditto." Steve's voice is sleepy, and gobsmacked. He kisses Danny, pulls him up from the couch, and leads him to their bed, eyeing Danny like he's gone caveman, and he's only a heartbeat away from plucking Danny off of his feet and carrying him over his shoulder and into their 'cave'. The moment passes, though Danny's heart skitters in his chest, and he's not entirely certain that he didn't _want_ Steve to carry him into their bedroom, claiming ownership over him like a rogue caveman or soldier returned home with spoils from the war.

"I think I could get used to this married sex thing," Steve says, hours later, after they've settled into bed, kissed, and made love under the covers. His words trail into nothingness as he drifts off to sleep, arms wrapped possessively around Danny, spooning him from behind.

Danny lets sleep take him, knowing they'll be awake in a few short hours, and he'll be cranky, Steve indulgent if he's not worrying over the possibilities of what could go wrong on their honeymoon. Danny tugs Steve closer, needing the skin on skin contact, though it's hot and he's still covered in Steve's scent, and he knows that this is just the beginning of the rest of their life together. That they'll fall asleep like this, just the two of them, tomorrow night, and the next, and the next, and the next until this world slips into eternity.


	2. Love You Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve wakes before Danny, watches his husband sleep, recalls their wedding vows. His heart wells with love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set during their honeymoon. 
> 
> I've linked the song that inspired this.
> 
> Let me know if you like. Mahalo

[Three Weeks from Tomorrow - Justin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ln26gVLaKjs) (link to the song that inspired this)

 

Steve looks over at Danny, sleeping beside him, tracks his movements with eyes that are half open. This is familiar, waking next to Danny, but knowing that they've taken vows, and not of the traditional _'til death do us part_ variety, it's different, because they're married. Danny is his, and he's Danny's. Forever.  
  
Several days into their honeymoon, and it still feels like a dream to Steve, one that he never wants to wake from.   
  
They'd chosen words that rang deep, echoed the wells of their hearts. Steve had painstakingly written his vows, spent days working on them, and found that he didn't need them when Danny, tears of joy welling in his eyes, stood in front of him, took his hands, and placed his trust, his heart, his all, in Steve.   
  
It was daunting. Terrifying. Steve's guts had twisted, and his heart had swelled with some indefinable feeling that made tears sting his eyes, and his palms grow sweaty.   
  
Danny's smile, the gentle way he'd squeezed Steve's hands, had grounded him, loosened his tongue, eased the wrenching in his guts, given Steve the words he needed to speak, and they weren't the ones he'd written, but that was okay, because they were better, words of the moment, words to last a lifetime, like Danny's had been. Like Danny's words always were.  
  
"I love you today," Steve whispers, recalling Danny's vows, smiling in the dark, tracing the outline of Danny's slightly parted lips with an index finger.   
  
Danny's voice had trembled with emotion, hands gripping Steve's tightly as though fearful of losing him, or maybe he'd needed Steve as an anchor, as much as Steve had needed -- will always need -- Danny as his.   
  
Steve remembers Danny's words as though he's just said them, can hear the tremble in Danny's voice, see his lips twist upward in a nervous smile, can feel Danny's vise-like grip on his fingers. _"I'll love you tomorrow, and each tomorrow that we get, provided, that is, that you don't manage to get us blown up by the next tomorrow."_  
  
Their family's laughter had been real, Kono's the loudest. Danny's eyes had shone brightly with tears, they'd looked like twin sapphires, and Steve had never wanted to kiss Danny senseless as much as he did in that moment, knowing that they had a lifetime of such moments to look forward to, because no way was he going to get them blown up by the next tomorrow, or any tomorrow afterwards, not with Danny standing in front of him so open and vulnerable, love shining so clearly in his eyes.  
  
It's raining outside, a gentle tap-tapping of raindrops on their tent. Steve knows that, when he wakes, Danny will complain, and loudly. He longs to hear his lover's -- his husband's -- voice, to cuddle and share warmth, shelter each other from the cold and just live in the moment, no rush to go anywhere, no bad guys to find and chase down, or threaten.   
  
It's an unusual feeling, because Steve _likes_ to chase down criminals. He enjoys running alongside Danny, exchanging cutting barbs; the metallic sound of handcuffs slamming into place around a thug's wrists; the way that Danny reads a criminal his rights, sarcasm dripping from his lips, like honey from a bear's paw. It's an adrenaline rush unequal to any other, though loving Danny's giving it a run for its money.  
  
Steve's heart feels like it's filled to bursting. Danny snuffles, lips smacking in a way that makes Steve smile, and rolls over, toward Steve, burrowing against him, cold nose buried against Steve's chest, lips brushing a nipple, making it hard without even trying.  
  
"I love you today, Danno," Steve whispers, fingers running through Danny's hair, lips brushing against Danny's ear. "More than I loved you yesterday, and I promise, I'll love you even more tomorrow."


	3. When Your Imagination Runs Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny doesn't think the wind howls like that; Steve gives him something else to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another honeymoon glimpse.

"That was definitely not the wind," Danny says, pointing at the canvas wall of their three man tent.   
  
Steve sighs and pats the ground beside him, hoping that his husband will scoot over, because it's cold, and it's dark, and it's late. They should be sleeping. "Danny, it's the wind."  
  
Danny shakes his head, and points a finger at Steve. He narrows his eyes. "Wind doesn't do..." he makes some kind of indecipherable gesture that's supposed to encompass the magnitude, and shape of the sound, "that."  
  
"C'mere," Steve says, once more patting the ground between them, wishing that they had one of those couple sleeping bags that he'd seen, and making a mental note to buy one, even though Danny has made it clear that they're not going camping anytime soon.   
  
"Wind doesn't howl like that," Danny says, even as he inches closer.  
  
Steve grabs Danny when he's within reach, pulls him down beside him, and opens his sleeping bag to accommodate Danny. It's not ideal, but with Danny's sleeping bag rearranged between them as well, it works.   
  
"Yes, it does," Steve says when he's got Danny's head nestled against his shoulder, and their arms and wrapped around each other, legs and feet entwined.   
  
He presses a kiss to Danny's temple, and smiles when Danny relaxes with a soft sigh, the warmth of his breath coasting across Steve's collarbone. "Besides, if that was a coyote or a wolf, they'd be far too afraid of us to venture close enough to our tent to --"  
  
Danny pushes up on an elbow, digging it into Steve's side. "Coyotes? What if they're rabid, Steven? You can--"  
  
Tired, and sore, and unsure what else to do when Danny's being so unreasonable, Steve pulls his husband down into a kiss, cutting off the rest of Danny's panicked response. If Danny can't stop his imagination from running wild with him, Steve will just give him something else to think about.


End file.
